Even a Miracle
by Rinsom Lost
Summary: The winter wizard has taken Santa hostage. It's up to a ragtag group, a kid, two toys, and the leader of Santa's guard, to save the day. AU, kind of. Also, perhaps a slight homage to a certain story involving a twister, ruby shoes, and a witch.
1. Chapter 1

The snowflakes fell around him gently, large and soft like feathers. They stuck to his hair and tickled his nose before melting one by one. Around him grew trees, large thick-trunked things that dwarfed him, clustering tight and chaotic. They were totally unfamiliar. 'Where am I?' he wondered silently. He thought for a moment, staring out into the dimmed light of the forest, and realized he didn't even know how he had gotten there in the first place. He couldn't remember where he had been before either. It was as if everything up until that moment had been wiped clean.

As if in response, a gust of wind pushed through the forest and sent the once soft snow flying like projectiles into his face, forcing him to defend his now-stinging eyes. As he brought his arms up he caught a glimpse at his hands. As the wind battered around him, whipping at his hair and chilling the tips of his ears, he stared at his small fingers, which were reddening with the cold. He flexed them, transfixed by the small digits. Were those really his hands? When the wind died down he brought them out in front of him, stretching his arms out. Somehow it didn't feel right. He didn't feel right, he realized, looking down at himself. Were his arms always so short?

He tried to examine himself more fully, turning around this way and that, spinning for a minute like a dog chasing its tail, until he tripped over his own feet and fell over into the cold white surrounding him. His hands burned at the contact with the snow, which stuck to his clothes as he stood up. He winced and stuffed his hands up under his arms. Why didn't he have gloves? And where was his coat? The impression of warm worn leather and a soft fuzzy collar came to his mind before swiftly fading. He moved his hands for long enough to rub his arms briskly before returning them and stomped his feet in the snow, feeling the way his toes tingled just a little. He wiggled them inside his shoes as he peered around.

"Hello?" he called. His voice came out high and soft and his hand flew to his throat. Did it always sound like that? It seemed odd. It wasn't really wrong, but like something he hadn't heard in a very long time. It still bothered him. "Hello?" he called again, a little louder. "Can anyone hear me?"

The forest was silent, save for a soft bird call and the crunch of snow as he fidgeted. His breathing picked up as he looked around once again. He couldn't see signs of any other person. He looked forlornly down at his feet. There weren't even tracks to show him where to go, where he had been before his sudden awakening. All around him, save for the large spot where he had fallen, was untouched spotless white.

'But that doesn't make sense,' he thought, his frustration growing.

He walked forward, seeing if perhaps another angle would be more familiar, then walked another way, hoping to see some distinguishing feature, something that would let him know where he was… who he was.

It was getting dark, the clouds overhead taking on a gray-blue tone and looming low to the ground, as if they thought to come ever closer and swallow him whole. He shivered.

He had to find some sort of shelter.

He glanced around before making his way over to a tree. It was small, more a bush than anything, and as he sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest, the prickly needles scratched at the top of his head.

"H-Hello?" He called again, hoping perhaps someone would hear him. Surely someone would. He couldn't be out all by himself, right? Why would he be by himself? Hands still placed firmly under his arms, he gripped hold of his shirt. He had to be close to home. Someone would come. His eyes pricked and he brought a hand up to rub the moisture away roughly. His brows furrowed. He couldn't cry. The tears continued to prick at his eyes, unhindered by his thoughts. He couldn't cry. He could take care of himself. He was a big boy.

He winced at that thought. It felt wrong. It was all wrong. He felt small and scared and somehow that was all very very wrong. And the wrongness of it all just made things worse and made the tears come more insistently, trickling down his cheeks in chilled trails, burning along with his embarrassment when the wind whipped up under the tree. He leaned his head down on his knees and sniffled, wishing he had a tissue, and wishing he wasn't crying at all, and wishing he could go home, and wishing desperately that he could remember where that was. He was wishing so hard that he didn't even hear the footsteps as they approached him.

"Hello?" came a soft, yet strong voice. He raised his head up and met the gaze of a young woman, with long brown hair and green eyes, kneeling in front of him.

"You poor thing," she said, reaching out to feel his cheeks. "How long have you been out here?"

He shrugged and inched back against the scratchy tree trunk, suddenly shy. The hand on his cheek lowered down to his shoulder.

"You're frozen solid." She looked at him for a moment before holding out her hand "Come on. You're coming back with me. This is no place for a little boy."

He looked at her questioningly for a moment. He knew well enough that kids weren't suppose to go with strangers. But it was cold, and he had no where else to go. Plus, he couldn't quite explain it, but she didn't really feel like a stranger. He placed his hand in hers and let her help him up from underneath the tree. Her smile slipped slightly and she knelt there for a moment in front of him, holding his hands in between her own, rubbing gently. Then, before he knew what was happening and before he could protest, heavy warmth enveloped him in the form of her coat. He watched her as she worked on fastening it firmly, unable to take his eyes away. Her dress was bright green and red and a holly spring tucked in her hair, behind her softly pointed ear, and she felt different somehow, as if happiness flowed out from her. She smelled, he realized, like sugar cookies.

"W-what are you?" He asked, stuttering because of the cold he told himself, not because of anything else.

She frowned for a second, then smiled. "I'm an elf," she replied. "A Christmas elf. But aren't you suppose to ask who I am first?" she asked. At first he thought she was mad, but then caught the quick wink and noticed she was still smiling, and he grinned back at her.

"Okay, who are you?" He asked as she straightened back up and took his hand in hers.

"I'm Elizabeta." She said as they began walking. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

He frowned and looked down, stumbling in the snow a little. Whenever he tried to remember anything his head felt like it was in a fog.

Elizabeta looked down at him, smiling gently. "Don't worry about that for now. Just keep moving. We'll be there soon"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Oh dear. I'm taking a bit of a gamble on this one. I'm trying my hardest to get this thing finished by Christmas... I was originally going to just submit this as a one shot, and I probably should anyway, but I think I have a tendency to work a bit better when I've got a deadline... and a short term one at that. Some of you may note, throughout the story that there might be some elements that sound familiar... I didn't list parody as a genre, simply because it's not really done for comedic effect, being more of an homage than anything else I guess... So anyway, here's the first chapter. Hope you like. Comments and concrit welcome and appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeta was right. It wasn't very far at all to their destination. They had only been walking about fifteen minutes when they approached a small log cabin, soft lights coming from inside and casting a golden glow on the surrounding snow. A soft billow of smoke came from the chimney. Elizabeta knocked twice on the door, then after a moment a third time before reaching down to turn the knob. They were taken by surprise however when the door was jerked open in front of them and a bayonet was stuck out, inches from the elf's face. Her smile dropped as she looked into dark emerald eyes cloaked beneath thick furrowed eyebrows. The man in front of them was dressed in a red and black uniform with gold trim.

His stomach did a flip flop as his mind was filled with the image of those angry eyes staring at him across a soaked battlefield. He darted behind Elizabeta, gripping onto the soft, cold fabric of her dress.

"Good to see you too, Arthur," she said. "If you would please put that gun down, I'd like to come inside. We have a visitor."

He dared to peak out from behind Elizabeta's back to look up at the frightening figure once again. The man in uniform, Arthur, kept his gun up and glanced about behind Elizabeta before finally looking down at him with a cold glare. He quickly pulled himself back again, pressing his face into her lower back. Elizabeta reached her hand back to pet his head momentarily before moving forward. They slipped into the house, warmth surrounding him more fully even than the coat had.

"Really Arthur, was that necessary?" He heard above him.

"If you had knocked correctly, then it wouldn't have happened," Arthur replied, as the door shut firmly.

"If you'd quit changing the code every day it wouldn't be an issue." Soft hands reached back once more and pulled him around to her front. He stubbornly kept his face hidden in her side.

"That's enough," came another voice. "There is no sense in arguing with him Elizabeta, he is stubborn as an ox. However," he heard wood scraping on the floor and footfalls approaching them, "I do believe introductions need to be made. Who is this?"

"This, Francis," she said, turning him around to face a man with long blonde hair and a scruffy chin, "Is a friend I met in the woods."

"A friend? Did it never cross your mind that he could be a spy for the wizard? You could very well have brought death on our doorstep in the form of that little-"

"Oh stop being so dramatic Arthur, can't you see you scare the poor thing." His face flushed in embarrassment as the blonde man patted his head, tousling it.

"I-I'm not scared," he said, stepping away from Elizabeta and looking up at the taller figures. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Somehow I seriously doubt that," Arthur replied, looking down at him. The angry (no, not angry, stern, a voice supplied in his mind) eyes stared down and he felt himself drawing back. He forced himself not to take a step away. But then, just as he was about to pull himself back to Elizabeta, or even to Francis (who, strangely, like Elizabeta, felt way too familiar to be a stranger) the eyes softened just a little and the mud covered field commingled, to his confusion, with warm hugs and a painted box. He blinked and rubbed his head. It was all making him dizzy.

Arthur sighed. "Tell me lad," the man said as he squatted in front of him, looking him square in the eye, "What's your name?"

He shrugged and rubbed his head more.

"Well, you have to have one. We can't just call you little boy." The man's head tilted to the side, as he looked him up and down. "Although for as frosted over as you are we could very well call you little boy blue."

He shook his head slowly, beginning to tell them once again that he couldn't remember anything, but his thoughts were interrupted by a vowel.

"A… A-" he started, then stopped. He couldn't think of anything more than that sound.

Arthur rolled his eyes and stood up again.

Elizabeta, however, tapped her chin and began listing, "Allan, Adler, Andrew-"

"Antonio," supplied Francis, smiling.

"Don't say that name. I don't want to hear it," grumbled Arthur, who had sat down at the table.

"Just because you do not get along with the stable master does not mean I-"

"Oh stop it you two," Elizabeta reprimanded. "Now, let's see. Atticus, Ash, Alfred-"

"That's it!" He interrupted with a sudden burst of recognition.

Elizabeta blinked, somewhat taken back. "That's a pleasant surprise. I didn't actually expect that to work."

"Well," began Arthur. "Now that that's solved, perhaps you could tell us what were you doing out in the forest."

Alfred bit his lip and frowned as he continued to rub his head, where an ache was forming above his right temple. He wished people would quit asking him that question. All it did was make his head hurt. A pair of hands pushed against his back, directing him over to the table.

"Now now, it's okay. This isn't an interrogation." Elizabeta glared at Arthur as she helped Alfred up into a chair. Arthur glared back. "We can worry about that later. First we need to get you warmed up."

"Oui. And this should be just the thing." Francis approached and sat a bowl down, filled with steaming creamy soup, in front of him. The smell wafted up to his nose and Alfred suddenly realized just how hungry he was. He picked up the spoon and took a bite, swiftly opening his mouth in an o and blowing. He didn't focus much on the flavor, being distracted by the way the soup threatened to scald his tongue, but the heat was a welcome change from the cold he had been experiencing shortly before. He swallowed and smiled as he felt the warm soup travel down, warming him from the inside out.

"I am afraid it is rather simple," Francis said with a frown as he sat down a few pieces of freshly baked bread. "If I were only back in my kitchen," He trailed off with a sigh. "The supplies here in this cabin are so meager."

"If you don't shut up about that I'm going to put you on guard duty and do the cooking myself."

Francis paled considerable. "Do not threaten us like that. I would like to live to see the castle again."

"You could guard the cabin perfectly well."

"I refer to your cooking."

"I'll have you know-"

Alfred smiled and swung his feet back and forth. Somehow the entire scene, the cabin, the meal, the bickering, was familiar and was setting him at ease. They were more impressions than images or solid memories, but he took comfort in it all the same.

"And keep your hands off me you-"

"More please." Alfred held up the empty bowl, grinning at Francis.

'Already?" The cook turned to Alfred. "Did you even taste it?"

He nodded vigorously.

Francis picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. "Your manners are atrocious." However he smiled all the same and after a moment walked back over with a refilled bowl and another slice of bread. "Here. And try to take your time."

Alfred began to dig in hungrily again, but with a glance towards Francis he attempted to slow down just a little. Instead he turned part of his attention to the man sitting across the table from him. The soldier sat glaring at the fire, chin in hand. The light flickered, causing shadows to play in the man's messy blonde hair. Despite the confusion that erupted in his head every time he looked at the man, or perhaps because of it, he felt drawn to him in a way he couldn't explain. He didn't realize he had been staring until Arthur turned around and glared at him coldly.

"I'd like to know what you find so fascinating."

Alfred flushed slightly and paused, piece of soup covered bread halfway to his mouth and unsure of what to say. "You have really big eyebrows."

"The better to repulse you with mon cher," Francis said as he set a plate of cookies and a cup of milk down in front of him.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. "My features are none of yo-"

"They're not repulsive," Alfred interrupted. Arthur and Francis turned to him, one amused, the other still obviously irritable. "They're just big and fuzzy."

"Excuse me," came a small voice from a door on the far side of the room. "Is it safe to come out now?"

"Yes, yes, It is fine. Arthur was simply being paranoid again," said Francis. "And I am afraid we had forgotten you were in there Matthew."

"And me too!" A small colorful figure about a foot tall bounced out of the door.

"Yes Feliciano, as amazing as that is, you too."

"Ooh, who is this Francis?" It said, dancing over to the table and climbing up on the chair to sit in Alfred's lap. "Hello. I'm Feliciano. But you can call me Feli. I'm head clown in charge of training new toys. Veh. Do you like balls? I like balls. Bright colorful ones that I can roll on and-"

"That's enough Feli. Calm down," said Elizabeta as she picked up the toy and set him down on the floor. "He gets a little excited around new people, especially children."

A soft clearing of a throat brought Alfred's attention downward to where a small white polar bear was tugging at the hem of Elizabeta's dress.

"Oh. And this little ball of fluff is Matthew," she said, picking up the stuffed bear.

"H-hello," Matthew whispered.

Alfred stared with wide eyes, then glanced down at Feliciano who was doing little flips on the floor. "Y-you can talk."

Matthew nodded shyly. "We can all talk. Humans just don't listen. Except for children, sometimes."

Alfred smiled at the bear a moment before frowning, struck with an idea. "But if you're toys, and Elizabeta's a Christmas elf?"

"Ah, I see what you are wondering," Francis said. "And the answer is yes. We work for Santa. I," he said with a flourish, "am his chef, head of the kitchen and keeper of the Christmas compendium."

Alfred's eyes widened even further, "Christmas compe- compe-"

"Really Francis?" Elizabeta sighed. "Compendium Alfred. Santa's recipe book. Francis just likes being a little grand sometimes."

"A little grand? Of course I would be. That book contains the best seasonal recipes in the world, from Bûche de Noël and gingerbread to mince pies and tamales."

Elizabeta just smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes Francis. No one in the North Pole can compete."

"Don't agree with him. You'll just make his head swell even more."

"You are one to talk. I am surprised that your giant black puff ball of a hat still fits."

"That big grump over there," Elizabeta motioned towards Arthur, who had turned in his seat, away from everyone else and facing the fire, arms crossed and shoulders hunched, "Is Arthur Kirkland, head of Santa's guards and commander of NPP, North Pole Patrol."

"And you're an elf?" Alfred asked Elizabeta.

"We are all elves. Elizabeta is the only one of us that works in the toy shop however," said Francis.

"But," Alfred's eyebrows furrowed a little, trying to process all of the information, "It's only a little bit til Christmas, and if you're all elves… if you're all Santa's elves what are you doing here?"

The elves looked at each other, exchanging uncertain glances.

"Well-" Elizabeta began.

"Santa's castle has been taken over by an evil wizard who wants to the turn the whole world into ice."

Feliciano's outburst drew the attention of everyone in the room. The sound of the crackling fire rose up around them in the silence.

"Ah, well… yes. That is essentially what has happened," said Francis, scratching his chin.

Arthur stared down the toy, who seemed unfazed by the glare. "Really, Feliciano, you can't just blurt out things like that."

"But yes. Unfortunately there was an attack on the castle and the winter wizard managed to take control," said Elizabeta, who pulled up a seat at the table, still holding Matthew. Feliciano climbed up the chair and took a place beside the bear on her lap.

"Winter wizard?" Alfred asked.

"Cold hearted b-" Arthur halted suddenly as Elizabeta shot him a glare. "Fellow. He's been trying to take control of Santa's village, and the magic it holds, for years now. Still don't know how he managed that infiltration. He managed to turn the guard… quite literally…" He paused, rubbing at his arm absentmindedly.

"With the guard incapacitated and the rest of us taken by surprise, we couldn't really fight back all that well," Elizabeta supplied. "Santa was taken hostage and locked away somewhere in the castle. We, along with several others, managed to escape here to one of Santa's cabins. There's enough of Santa's magic here to keep us hidden, but…" she stopped, biting her lip, a haunted look appearing in her eyes.

"But now we're the only ones left."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Hi all. Looks like so far I'm still on track. Hoping that the characterization is staying on track. I've never worked with Hungary before, so I was kind of uncertain about her. Oh well, hope you like. Comments and Criticism welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

An oppressive weight settled over the group clustered at the table, the warm ease having been driven away.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I dare say by now he's sufficiently warmed up. Perhaps it would be best if the lad got some rest."

"But what about-"

"I believe for once you are right," Francis said, sharing a look with Arthur. "There will be plenty of time for talk tomorrow morning, but it is growing late."

"But-"

Arthur's eyebrows raised, and something in the expression let Alfred know it was pointless to argue.

He pouted all the same as he climbed off of the chair.

Feliciano and Matthew jumped to the floor as Elizabeta stood up, and joined him as he followed her over to the small room in which the toys had been hiding. The single candle she had brought in with them barely illuminated the small space, but Alfred could easily make out a small bed and a side table. The room was scarcely big enough to fit those two pieces.

"Now," Elizabeta said, looking him up and down. "You're about… this big," she said, holding her hands out. Alfred was just about to ask what she was talking about when a cool glowing blue appeared above her hands. "It's pretty cold out. Flannel's probably best." Soft sparkling lights danced about in the blue glow and slowly a solid form began to appear across Elizabeta's outstretched arms. It draped softly against them, a longer piece, which Alfred soon realized was a sleeve, hanging down. The blue glow faded, leaving him blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness once again. "There," she said smiling, "This should fit." Elizabeta laid the soft fabric in his arms. It was warm, as if just taken out of a dryer. "But it can be readjusted, if needed."

He nodded and smiled. Magical pajamas. Or at least magicked pajamas. And despite it being dark he could vaguely see that it was plaid, red and blue, two of his favorite colors.

"Well," she said, still standing in front of him, her arms now crossed. "Go ahead and try it on."

He looked down and scuffed his foot slightly on the floor, fisting the still warm, but cooling, fabric.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm turning around." She said, as she twisted away from him. "See."

"No peaking?"

"Promise. No peaking." Elizabeta laughed and Alfred smiled. He wondered if all elves laughed like that, as if they were twinkling, or if that was just the nature of this particular elf. It wasn't in the sound, he realized as he changed into the warm flannel, but the feel. Maybe he could get the others to laugh later, he thought with a smile as he pulled off his socks. 'Although', he thought, 'Francis might be easier than Arthur'.

"Okay. All done," he said, hopping up onto the bed and reaching down for Matthew and Feliciano who were trying to climb up as well.

"O-" Elizabeta started to say as she turned around to see the blanket Feliciano was climbing go sliding onto the floor, Feliciano with it, matching the pile of clothes Alfred had left. She walked over, shaking her head. "I really don't know which of you is worse." She bent over and picked up the blanket, which Feliciano was still hanging onto .

"Whee!" The clown swung from one corner, kicking his feet back and forth, then dropped down onto the bed, rolling to a stop with his back against Matthew's tummy. "Veh!" he said, lying almost upside down and looking up at Elizabeta. "Fratello would say it was me."

"Fratello? Toys have siblings?" Alfred said as he picked up Matthew, who was rubbing at his stomach, and set him in his lap, letting Feliciano tumble the rest of the way onto his back.

"Of course we do. Fratello and I were cut from the same fabric. Veh, Alfred." Feliciano said, quickly sitting up. "Do you have a brother?"

Alfred looked down at his hands. " I... I don't know." Faces popped into his mind, but just as quickly faded, before he could even begin to grasp them. "I don't know much of anything right now."

"Oh, I know what you mean." Feliciano hopped up and darted up to the pillows beside Alfred as Elizabeta threw the blanket back on the bed. "Fratello always says I have a head full of stuffing. But I just tell him 'Of course I do. I have a head full of stuffing and an arm full of stuffing, and a leg, and-" Feliciano rolled back onto the blanket, landing dead center on a quilt square before rolling to another and sitting up. "And then he yells at me."

Alfred frowned and hugged the bear sitting in his lap. "That doesn't seem very nice."

"That's just how he is," Feliciano smiled up at him."It doesn't mean he doesn't care."

Alfred grinned back and nodded. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"Oh, oh!" Feliciano bounced. "Maybe you have a brother that yells at you too!"

Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped when the smile faded from Feliciano's face.

"Veh," he said softly. "Elizabeta, do you think they're okay? Ludwig and Fratello and the others?"

Elizabeta looked up from where she was folding the discarded clothes and sat down on the bed. She patted her lap, motioning Feliciano forward. "Clowns are suppose to frown, silly," she said as he settled in. "Don't worry. They can take care of themselves. They're probably working just as hard there to set things right as we are here."

"Feli?" Alfred said, noting the look of uncertainty still plaguing the toy's face and deciding to take a gamble. "Who were you talking about a second ago? You mentioned your brother, but-"

"Oh, Ludwig?" Feliciano asked, his face lighting up once again. "He's my friend. I work with him in the toy shop. He's the head toymaker."

"More like taskmaster," Elizabeta laughed. "Him and his schedules and quotas. He does keep everything running smoothly though. If it weren't for him I doubt we'd ever get the whole thing done… He was here with us until a few days ago- the last time we tried to go the castle he and his brother…" Elizabeta looked off to the side for a moment, before turning back. "Well, that's enough of that." She said, lifting Feliciano off of her lap and placing him at the head of the bed with Alfred and Matthew. "Everything's going to be okay. You'll see."

She started to stand up, but stopped as she leaned forward and her hand hit her pocket. "Oh, Matthew," she said, glancing up at the bear. "I almost forgot. This," she said as she pulled out a collar made out of red ribbon, with a round silvery pendant attached, "should help with your little problem." She scooted closer and tied it around the bears neck.

Matthew reached up to touch it with his paw. "Thank you."

"We were going to wait till Christmas," Elizabeta continued. "But with everything that's going on…" she paused. "It's not much, just something some of the elves have been working on. But it's only got enough magic to use once, so save it for when you really need it… and for when you've got lots of space."

"Huh?" The bear asked, confused.

"Don't worry, you'll see," Elizabeta said. "Just remember, focus on the talisman and it should do its thing. Now," she said lifting her eyes to Alfred and standing up. "It's time for bed." Alfred had a feeling he wouldn't be able to argue against Elizabeta either, the look in her eyes backing up his assumption. He scooted down in the bed and pulled up the covers around him and the toys while Elizabeta picked the candle up off of the side table and walked away.

"Goodnight," she said as she left the room.

The door was closed only a moment before Alfred felt a movement beside him, as Feliciano climbed out from underneath the covers and let himself drop to the floor.

"Feli- oomph," came a muffled voice. Matthew crawled himself up from underneath the blankets and out of Alfred's arms to lean over the bed. "Feli. Where are you going?" he whispered.

"They're being quiet," he answered, as if that explained everything.

Alfred pushed the covers down and sat up. "What do you-"

"Feli," Matthew whispered as loud as he dared. "Come back."

But Feliciano was already walking towards the door. "If they're being quiet they're probably talking about stuff they don't want us to hear. And I want to know. I'm a toy, not a-" he turned back around to face Alfred and Matthew, catching himself. "I'm tired of them keeping secrets." He let his head loll to the left as he looked at the bear. "Veh, Matthew, don't you want to know?"

"Y-yes, but-" Matthew was cut off as Alfred picked Matthew up and got out of the bed, "A-Alfred. Wait. We're not-" he whispered as loud as he could.

"Shh," Alfred said, setting Matthew down beside Feliciano and tiptoeing over to the door, pressing his ear to it. The sound coming through was muffled, but after a moment he was able to pick out voices.

"I don't know what to do. There's only a few days until Christmas," said Elizabeta, sounding sad and tired.

"What else is there to do? We have attempted a rescue before, and we gained nothing, not even information. The wizard got more out of it than we did," said Francis.

"Yes, but perhaps,"

"Non," Francis replied, "I am afraid this Christmas is a loss."

Alfred wished he could shake his head, do something to protest what was being said. Instead he kept his ear firmly to the door, hoping someone on the other side would do it for him.

"But if Santa doesn't show up this Christmas, then all of those children…" Elizabeta trailed off.

"Yes disappointed-"

"Not just-" came Arthur's voice, loud enough that even Matthew, who still stood a few feet away could hear the noise, if not make out the words. There was a quick duet of shushing, then Arthur continued, quieter, but still as insistent. "Not just disappointed, you idiot. Disillusioned. They would stop believing. Do you know what repercussions that could have? Do you even realize how much of our world is held together by that belief?"

Elizabeta sighed. "Too much."

"If something isn't done…" Arthur trailed off. "We've got to try again."

"I am telling you mon ami, there is no way. And I hardly doubt you are one to be leading us into battle at this point."

"I haven't a clue as to what you me- Franc- Francis unhand me," There was a quick scuffle and the sound of shifting fabric.

"This," Francis said with quiet force, "Is what I mean." Then the voice softened. "Can you really pretend to be all right? You may not have noticed, but we have been able to tell. You have not been the same since."

Alfred wished at that point he had x-ray vision. Things just weren't making any sense.

"Francis is right Arthur," said Elizabeta, "And it's getting worse." There was the sound of wood scraping on the floor and then, "we just don't want to lose anyone else. And we don't know-"

"I can't believe you two," Arthur said, "Giving up already. And all beca- there's no sense to it."

"Arthur, let us drop this for the moment," said Francis, "We can talk about this when things are less…" There was a pause, and for a moment Alfred wondered if they would say anything else before-

"Yes," Arthur relented, sounding defeated. "I suppose-"

"Good," said Elizabeta, "Now Francis, did you remember to get the firewood?"

"Yes, yes," replied Francis "Of co-"

At this point Alfred pulled his ear away from the door, finally allowing his head to shake at all he had heard.

"What were they saying, Alfred?" asked Matthew, quietly.

"Not good stuff." He replied, walking back over towards the bed.

"Like?"

"Like they're giving up," he said stomach clenching, "But if they don't rescue Santa lots of children will be disappointed, and they'll stop believing, and-"

"Veh! And that would be the end of everythin-" Matthew clamped a paw over Feliciano's mouth.

"Quiet," the bear pleaded, being swung around by Feliciano's flailing. "They'll hear us."

Alfred rushed over and put his hands on Feliciano, stilling him.

Feliciano instead pushed at the paw at his mouth, "Bmph, mhph," he said, quieter than before, but still as frantic. After a minute Matthew gave in to Feliciano's shoving. "But we'll all be doomed." Feliciano whispered. "Santa, and the castle, and the elves. Veh! Elizabeta and Ludwig." If stuffed clowns could cry his fabric face would have been soaked. "They'll all be gone."

Matthew sat down with a soft thump, looking shaken and forlorn, "And what will happen to us? We'll be-"

"Fine! Everything will be fine!" Alfred whispered, staring down at the toys. "And you now why? We're going to fix everything."

"What?" both toys asked, Matthew sounding panicked and Feliciano sounding hopeful.

"If they aren't going to rescue Santa, then we will!"

"But-"

"But what?" asked Alfred, who was already walking over to where his clothes had been folded.

"But it's impossible!" cried Matthew, who was looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

"Nothing's impossible." Alfred said, grinning. "Especially for a hero."

"Hero?" Matthew asked, getting up and walking over to where Alfred had sat down and was examining his clothes.

"Yeah! Me!" Alfred said, laughing.

"Shush." Matthew said, putting his paw over mouth. "You've as bad as Feliciano."

"Mmphh. Mhh mhh mmhh."

Matthew sighed, "What?"

Alfred pulled the paw away and wriggled his nose. "That tickled."

"Alfred," Matthew said, sitting back down on the floor again, "It would take a miracle to rescue Santa. And look at us. We're just a couple of toys and a little boy."

"So we'll make a miracle!" Alfred said, grinning. He had given up on the somewhat damp clothes and was pulling on Elizabeta's coat over his new pajamas.

"Alfred you don't make miracles. They just happen."

"Don't you know, Mattie. Even a miracle needs a hand." Alfred paused and frowned, at the new (old a voice said) nickname or the phrase he wasn't certain. He brightened up after a minute though and grinned back at the doubtful toy.

"Veh, you really think we could?" said Feliciano who was walking over to join the two of them.

"Yeah. I do." Alfred had pulled on his socks and shoes and was examining the window.

"But-"

"So who's with me?" Alfred pulled the window open, letting a gust of cold air in.

"Veh! Me me!" Feliciano said, bouncing up and down. "I'll rescue Santa and Ludwig and fratello!"

Alfred placed his hands on the windowsill, then looked back over his shoulder at the bear. "So how 'bout it? You with us?"

Matthew looked back at the door. " I don't-" His gaze turned back to the window, at the boy now sitting on the windowsill and clown climbing up his shoulder. The bear growled softly. "Someone's gotta keep you two from getting lost." He said and walked over to them. "Pull me up."

Alfred grinned down and lifted him, before jumping out the window, into the cold world outside.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Oh dear, this might be a bit sloppier than previous chapters. I just finished editing this, literally, about fifteen minutes ago. Normally I would let it sit for a day or so, so that I can check it over with a fresh eye, but that's not really as much an option with this story. I have a feeling I'm already going to be working on this thing at least a few days after Christmas, and that's with putting out a chapter a day, which so far I'm still on track with. Hope you enjoy. Comments and criticism fully welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was still, save for the sound of feet shuffling through the snow. Flurries had started to fall shortly after they had left the warmth of the cabin and had picked up into a shower, covering Alfred's head in a white dusting.

"My feet are cold," he mumbled.

"Don't start whining now," replied Matthew, who was held by Alfred, muzzle pressed against the boys chest. "It's going to get a lot colder than this."

"I was wondering about that," Alfred said. "Santa lives at the north pole, right?"

Matthew nodded, his head rubbing against Elizabeta's coat.

"But the north pole doesn't have trees," he continued, glancing around at the forest which surrounded them. "So how far away are we?"

"Oh, that. Don't worry, it's not that far."

Alfred blinked, still confused about the distances involved. If they hadn't even reached the tree line yet, how could they be anywhere near Santa's castle?

"My stuffing's getting wet," moaned Feliciano, interrupting Alfred's thoughts. The clown was sitting on his shoulder and clinging to his head.

Alfred glanced over to him, turning his head slightly. "You aren't even on the ground. I'm the one walking in the stuff."

"Yes," said Feliciano as he gripped tighter. His balance had been shifted by the movement and he clung to Alfred's hair tightly, tugging at it. "But you're warm, and that's making the snow on you melt."

"Well, what am I suppose to do about that? Freeze over?"

"Don't say that," Matthew growled lightly.

"Huh? Why?"

"Just don't," said Matthew who burrowed himself more deeply into Elizabeta's coat.

"Veh, Alfred. The winter wizard-"

Snap.

Alfred froze, holding his breath.

"Alfred, why-"

The boy reached over and placed a finger in front of Feliciano's mouth and darted behind the nearest tree. He stood, silent, and, along with the other two, peaked out from behind it.

The woods were quiet, with no sign of movement, save for the wind whistling quietly through the branches.

"Sorry guys," said Alfred, letting out a breath as he turned back around. "Just thought I hear-"

A pair of icy green eyes stared back at him.

"What in bells are you doing out here?"

"N-nothing," Matthew stuttered while Alfred giggled at Arthur's chosen curse word. "We were just-"

"We're rescuing Santa!" shouted Feliciano gleefully.

Alfred winced at Arthur's expression. He could feel Matthew tense up.

"Thanks Feli," he sighed.

"You're welcome," said the clown. Alfred could hear the grin in Feliciano's voice.

Arthur didn't say a word, simply grabbing hold of Alfred's hand and pulling back in the direction they had just came from. Alfred's feet kicked through previous footprints in an attempt to keep up.

"Hey. Arthur. Arthur come on." Alfred planted his feet into the snow and tugged on the soldiers arm. His eyes widened as Arthur's upper half jerked back. Arthur turned around, incredulous, and raised an eyebrow as Alfred grinned up at him. That was, he grinned at him for the split second before Arthur grabbed him, tucking him under an arm, and started walking.

"Hey! No fair! Arthur." Alfred wriggled about as much as he could, trying to break Arthur's hold and wincing as Feliciano swung about from his hair. "Arthur! You were the one who said it was so important to rescue Santa! And now you're stopping us? What gives."

"Yes. I was," said Arthur, with some difficulty. With Alfred's attempts at freeing himself he was constantly having to readjust his hold. "Not that you were meant to hear that exchange. Sometimes things are suppose to be between adults, thus the closed door. And when we were discussing Santa we were referring to the three of us, not the three of you, so you can quit squirming."

"But Arthur!"

The soldier stopped, placed him on the ground, and looked him in the eye, hands on his shoulders. "Listen you-"

"What were you doing out?"

"I was." Arthur cleared his throat glancing off to the side, before looking back. "I was coming after you of course."

Feliciano, once again safely perched on Alfred's shoulder, tugged on Alfred's ear and nodded his head towards the pack on Arthur's back. The two toys and the boy shared a look before Alfred spoke.

"We don't believe you."

Feliciano and Matthew nodded in agreement, the bear speaking quietly, "You're a bad liar Arthur."

Arthur's face tightened just a little before replying. "Alright. Alright, I was going to the castle. I thought, if those two weren't going to do anything, then I was going to do it myself."

Alfred grinned. "Then come with us!"

"Now see here! Just because-"

"We're going with or without you. The longer we stand out here arguing the longer Santa is held prisoner." Alfred turned around and started walking.

"Oh no you don't." Arthur walked up to him once again and grabbed hold of his unoccupied shoulder. "I'll drag you back if I have to."

"No!" Alfred yelled, dropping Matthew and clinging onto the nearest tree.

"Now really," Arthur growled, grabbing onto Alfred's waist and tugging. "Stop being so stubborn. You can't-" Arthur tugged again, unsuccessfully. "You can't hope to get anything done this way."

"Won't let go. Can't make me. I'm super strong." Alfred said grinning, reveling at his new-found power. He turned around and stuck out his tongue.

"Of all the- fine," Arthur said. "That's just fine." He let go of Alfred, who frowned at the new tone Arthur's words had taken. "There's other ways to do things."

Alfred was opening his mouth to ask what he meant, when suddenly fingers poked him in the ribs, dancing up and down his sides. "H-hey. No fai- hehe. Stop! Cut- cut it-" And Alfred soon found himself unable to speak, laughing loudly, cold icy tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Give up," he heard Arthur say.

"No!" Alfred cried between laughs. He could feel his arms weakening, his stomach burning. He was almost to the end of his limits when another laugh joined his.

"Feli! Matthe- let go!"

Alfred turned around to see the two toys engaging in tickle warfare of their own. The fingers on his sides and his belly quit moving and he took the opportunity to strike, tackling Arthur to the ground and pinning him. Feliciano and Matthew moved in, continuing their offensive.

Alfred grinned, watching the way Arthur's pale skin lit up bright red, just a few shades lighter than his coat. He was right. The feel of the laugh was different than Elizabeta's, not quite twinkling, but it was warm nevertheless. Different, but just as nice, Alfred decided.

"Okay! O-" Arthur laughed loudly. "I-I-I surrender. Stop. I surrender."

Alfred and Matthew moved away, while Feliciano hopped up on Arthur's stomach, pulling out a small white flag and waving it.

"Traitorous-" Arthur rolled his eyes as he looked up and saw Feliciano. He sighed, sitting up and letting the clown roll off. "Was that really necessary?"

"So you'll come with us?" Alfred asked, picking up Matthew and dusting the snow out of his fur.

Arthur held his head for a moment, looking at the ground, before reaching his hands up to shake the snow out of his hair and pick it out of the back of his coat collar. A quick nod was the only response.

"Good."

Arthur shook his head and stood up. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he mumbled, stretching his back. "All right," he addressed the group. "If we're going to get there we need to get moving." He stood up and picked up the pack and gun, which had fallen at some point. As they began to walk he looked over at Alfred.

"So what was your plan?"

"Plan?" Alfred looked back.

Arthur stopped momentarily before starting again, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>"Stop here for a minute. I have to take care of something." Arthur said, turning to Alfred, before walking a distance away.<p>

"What's he doing?" He asked Matthew, watching as Arthur gestured with his arms.

The bear turned around to watch Arthur and shrugged. "I think he's talking."

Alfred stood there for a moment, perplexed. "Are we sure we want him to come along after all?"

"Veh, Alfred. He's talking with the wind."

"As I said, are you sure this guy's not just nuts?" Alfred stood, fidgeting in the snow.

"No, no. The element wind."

"What does that-" Matthew turned back around and looked up at Feliciano. He shook his head. "I don't get it either, Feli."

Feliciano swung his legs back and forth, heels of his feet hitting into Alfred's arm. "Veh, I keep forgetting you're a new toy. It's a wind spirit. See the way the branches move when Arthur stops talking," Feliciano said, pointing at the tree Arthur stood under. "That's it speaking back."

"Wind spirit? Do those really…" Alfred trailed off.

"Alfred," said Matthew, tugging on his coat sleeve. "You're traveling with two toys and an elf. Just because you can't see something doesn't mean its not there."

Feliciano nodded, grinning at the boy. "There's lots of magic in the world. Santa is very close to the elements, so Arthur's probably getting information for-" Feliciano looked up and called out to Arthur, who was walking towards them, his expression unreadable. "Veh! Arthur! What did he say?"

The soldier looked at them for a minute, then, sighing, leaned up against a tree. "Nothing good I'm afraid. There's rumors of the wizard's forces stretching further into new territories. Without Santa to keep him in check he's taking whatever opportunities that he can, and the smaller magical communities just can't stand up to him by themselves." Arthur bent over and picked up his pack and gun, which he had set down in the snow before walking off, and swung them across his shoulder. "We'd better get moving. The longer we delay the worse things are going to get, although it's getting harder and harder to see how that could happen now."

They walked in the snow for several minutes, silence ruling as they all digested the news, before coming upon a large grouping of rocks.

"Watch your step." Arthur said as he climbed down into a crack between two large stones, each one several feet taller than the soldier. Alfred stood there for a minute, looking down into the dark hole, before realizing Arthur's hand was stretched out.

"Come on," Arthur said, waving him forward, "We don't have all day."

Alfred reached his hand out and grabbed hold of the larger one, stepping down into the small cave. He looked about, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The darkness felt impenetrable. "How are we going to-"

He was interrupted by a small green light rising out of the darkness. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from Arthur's outstretched hand, resting on top of his palm.

Arthur looked back at him and smiled, amused by his widened eyes. "You're with an elf, lad. No need for flashlights." Arthur turned back around before Alfred could respond, stepping lightly over the slick stones, and moving just slow enough for Alfred to not slip. As they walked further down he realized that the stones were stairs, edges rounded through the years by dripping water. The walls of the cave seemed to glow faintly with the light cast by Arthur, shimmering in shades of green and red and silver. It wasn't an ordinary cave. It echoed with an energy he was becoming acutely aware of the more time he spent around the elves. The energy in the cave however was more tingly, and not in a good way. Although the warm glow exuded by the elves was there he also had the sensation of being pinched.

Alfred squeezed Matthew tighter with his left arm and pulled himself closer to Arthur. The soldier looked down at him, and Alfred thought he was going to be reprimanded. Instead Arthur just frowned a little and clutched Alfred's hand tighter. The gesture should have been comforting, but that warm assurance was dimmed by the fact that the tingling seemed to increase the further they walked, the surroundings getting colder and the pinches becoming more frequent. Instead, if anything, it made him more tense, more fearful, and more uncertain about whether he should have even left the cabin at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

Okay, yeah, that Christmas deadline didn't happen. Sorry for this chapters delay. It would have gone a little better actually, had the coming scenes not popped into my head a few days ago. Had to re-work things a bit because of it. Ah, and you might have noticed that I put Arthur down on the character listing. He's starting to push his way into the story more than I had originally planned. That's what happens with stories though. Hope everyone is having/has had a wonderful Christmas and hope you enjoy. Comments and criticism welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't long before they reached the bottom of the stone stairs and walked into a narrow corridor. Like the staircase, the floor wasn't flat, but rounded and rolling, nor was the corridor straight. It wound this way and that, stretching out for a distance and then taking a sharp turn to the right or to the left, and, throughout the space, holes of various sizes lined the walls, like small doorways, sometimes being visible for a while before it was reached and others appearing magically as they passed. Many of the entrances were tiny, barely a foot or so tall, and some just slightly taller or shorter than Alfred, but several stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling, the space it led to being about the same size as the corridor they were in. Alfred inched closer to Arthur again. If he were to be separated from the others…

They traveled for some time in the cave system until reaching a split in the tunnel. Arthur stepped through the one on the right side and the prickling sensation increased.

"Veh, Arthur. That was the entrance back there," said Feliciano, twisting around to look back as they walked through the new corridor.

"I know," replied Arthur, who walked steadily onward.

"Then where are you going?" cried Feliciano, gripping onto Alfred's head.

"We're just taking a slight detour," Arthur said calmly, although Alfred noticed that his pace had slowed noticeably. "A bit more intelligence gathering."

"But Arthur," said Matthew quietly, "the time. I thought we had to hurry."

"This won't take long. See," Arthur pointed out in front of them at a growing pinprick of soft purple light. "There's the exit up there."

"Oh," Matthew said in awe, as the passage opened up before them, stretching out in width and height, allowing them a full view of the terrain beyond even before they reached the caves entrance. The world before them glowed purple, the sky above taking on that size lilac hue. The snow on the ground reflected the color, shimmering as if every individual crystal was singing. That song, however, was nothing compared to the chorus rising up from the ground in sharp, jagged, splendorous points. On a small rise a short distance from the cave rose a palace, shining, as if made of ice.

Alfred shivered. What he noticed more so even than the frightening, beautiful structure, was the cold. It nipped and bit at him, burning his fingers and driving away any of the delicate magical warmth the toys and Arthur had lent him.

"Now," Arthur said, as they reached the line of snow, "I wan-" He turned around to see the fixed stares of the other three and the small tremble in Alfred's form. He closed his fist over the green glow, extinguishing it, and turned back around to gaze at the palace.

"Beautiful, isn't it."

"Veh, Arthur," whispered Feliciano. "Where are we?"

Arthur bent down to examine Alfred's hands. "The realm of the snow fairies," he said as he rubbed them.

"The snow fairies?" Feliciano cried in a panicked voice, jumping up and nearly losing his balance. "Veh, b-but Arthur, you don't- how do you-"

"Contacts are more fluid than you might think," Arthur replied, glancing up at the toy before kneeling down and examining Alfred's hands once again. Arthur shook his head and placed his hands, now glowing green, around Alfred's. They warmed Alfred's hands considerable and he felt the soft sensation forming between his skin and Arthur's before the soft red mittens became visible. "And it's important to have as many as possible, in as many locations as possible. How else do you think I had managed to stay ahead of the Winter Wizard as long as I did."

Feliciano stared, slack-jawed, "But Arthur, they-"

"Now," Arthur interrupted, standing up. "An escort will be here shortly." He took hold of Alfred's right hand again and began walking. Alfred stared up at the palace looming ahead of them and stumbled just a little as he walked.

"Come along," Arthur said, glancing back. "Don't drag your feet."

They were halfway to the palace when Arthur stopped and turned back around to face them again. "Now, the three of you, don't speak until you're spoken to. Hopefully the queen will be amiable enough, but fairies can be flighty."

"More than elves?"

"Yes, Matthew more so than elves. They're-"

"Arthur!" A small figure walked swiftly towards them, dress shimmering and wing fluttering behind, crystalline. "When the queen said we had a visitor I thought it might be you."

"Esha," Arthur greeted the slight figure, who was only a head taller than Alfred, smiling. "It's been a long time. How are you?"

"Oh, well enough," she smiled back before letting her expression fall. "But we heard the news. It's awful, just awful!" She motioned for them to follow and began moving back towards the palace, toes just lightly touching the snow as her wings fluttered.

"Yes, that's the reason I'm here. It's very important that I speak to her majesty right away."

Esha gripped lightly at her dress and looked back with uncertainty. "Ah, yes. I will let her know you have arrived, but you see, tonight is the solstice and the ball has already begun."

"It's very important."

"Yes, yes, I realize-"

"And Santa has done so much for the fairies in the past."

"He has?" Feliciano asked, flabbergasted.

Arthur turned his head around to glare at the clown. "Yes, he has," he said before turning back to Esha.

"Yes," she said. "And we all realize that, but…" She bit her lip. They walked in silence for a moment, approaching a door in the castle wall before she continued, "But it's more complicated than that Arthur, I shouldn't have to tell you that."

Esha pulled open the door and stepped inside, holding it open for them and then leading them through a white hallway. Their steps were silent in the space, as if sound had ceased altogether. Alfred was tempted to bring his finger up to his ear, to see if he had gone deaf, but one arm held onto Matthew and his other hand was held by Arthur, and he didn't dare let go of either. Other fairies flitted past them noiselessly, carrying trays and bowls. Everything was quiet, but the hall still echoed with life, as if it should have been ringing with noise. After a moment they were shown into a small room off of the hall and the door closed behind them with a click, sound rushing back to his ears.

Esha stood beside the door, fingers gracing the handle, and gestured over to a small velvet couch, colored a light purple. "Please sit. I'll be back in a moment."

The door opened again, sound once again being sucked away as Esha moved swiftly out into the hall.

Alfed suddenly felt himself picked up from behind and sat on the couch. Then Arthur was squatting in front of him, examining his face and adjusting his hair. Fingers ran through it, undoing any small snags or tangles that were present, before approaching Alfred's cowlick. Arthur pushed at it for a moment, frowning as it stubbornly remained standing, before licking his fingers and going towards it again.

"Stop!" Alfred cried, catching Arthur's hand. "That's icky."

Arthur sighed, and sat back on his heels, looking the boy up and down. "That will have to do. Okay," he continued, turning his attention to the toys, straightening Matthew's collar and picking a leaf out of Feliciano's yarn hair. "I don't have to tell you two this at least, since you don't eat anyway, but Alfred," he said, looking up at the boy. "While we're here the fairies might offer you things, food, treats, etc." Alfred smiled for a second before Arthur continued, "Don't accept anything."

Alfred felt his shoulders droop. "But why?" he asked, puzzled. "Wouldn't that be rude?"

"In the magical world…" Arthur paused, before continuing. "When dealing with magical creatures there are dangers you're not accustomed to. You've heard stories of changelings I can assume." Arthur stood, crossing his arms and looking back at the door.

"I think." Alfred replied. "But I ate Francis's food. Elves are magic and I've been fine."

"Veh. Alfred," said Feliciano, hopping onto Alfred's lap. "Not all of the magical world is like us. The snow fairies are-"

At that point the door reopened and Esha walked back inside, shutting the door behind her. She stood stiffly, full of formality, as she spoke, "The queen regrets that she cannot leave the ball at this moment, however she does request your presence in the grand hall." Alfred looked up at Arthur, who was frowning once again. This was a different frown though. Before, Alfred realized, what he had taken for a frown was simply the lack of a smile. Now the soldier, who had taken Alfred's hand and pulled him off of the couch, actually seemed grim.

Alfred was prepared when the sound, once again, disappeared, but that didn't make it any less disconcerting. What was even weirder though he realized, was when they stepped out of the hallway, through a grand entranceway, and it all suddenly came back, loud and wild, a cacophony of voices, clatters, and music.

The room they stepped into was filled with dancing figures that twirled around, feet just barely gracing the ground before rising up off of it completely, aided by delicate icy wings. The music was unlike anything Alfred had heard before, filled with drums and flutes and instruments which he had not hope of identifying. But as they walked forward the crowd parted, figures stopping to stare at them. Alfred swallowed, as he looked up at the faces, some curious and some threatening, but all carrying an icy chill he couldn't help but shiver at.

The crowd split until the group found themselves standing in front of a group of stairs. The music stopped and Arthur nodded, half-bowing, towards the figure who sat upon a silvery throne at the top of the small platform. The fairy who smiled down on them wore an elaborate dress, white and full of lace. Every tiny movement she made sent a beautiful light gleaming off of it. In fact, everything about her was beautiful.

"Arthur, how good to see you," she said, her voice tinkling like a group of tiny bells. The sound of moving fabric suddenly erupted and Alfred turned around to see the dancers all kneeling. Arthur, he noticed, remained standing, back straight and unyielding. Alfred, inched slightly behind him as the queen gestured. "And who is this?"

"This, your majesty," Arthur replied, pulling Alfred in front of him, "is Alfred."

"What an adorable little child," she said and Alfred backed up quickly against Arthur's legs. Although she smiled the whole time, there was something predatory in the words, something with teeth. Arthur rested his hand on Alfred's shoulder, gripping his arm reassuringly and pulling Alfred back to his side.

"But what strange traveling companions you have," the Queen continued, glancing to Feliciano, who was gripping Alfred's coat collar tightly, and Matthew, who had turned himself away from the queen and once again had his muzzle firmly planted in Alfred's chest. "Especially considering the recent developments."

"Those developments are actually the reason I'm here," Arthur replied. "I was hoping you had some information regarding the Wizard's movements these past few days. I've been…" he paused for a moment, "a little preoccupied."

"Yes," the queen said, "So I had heard."

Alfred felt Arthur's grip on him tighten.

"But no matter," the queen continued, waving her hand dismissively, "I'm sure you won't let it get out of hand." She stood up and walked down the steps towards them, remaining on the stairs so that she remained an inch or so above Arthur. "You are aware, of course," she said, "that the winter wizard, nor his master, are no friends of the snow fairies. They aim to upset the balance in the realms and that cannot be done. Yes, it would be nice to have power like we once had again, and our realm does seem to be shrinking, but his approach is certainly not the right way to handle things. "

"We have worked with Santa over the years to see that their aims remain unaccomplished. I had not expected it, but I have enjoyed this cooperation. However," she continued, "I'm afraid that recent events could have started a chain reaction." Her smile dropped, a look of serious concentration replacing it. "As you have likely heard, several of the smaller magical communities of the north are under the Wizard's control. We are afraid that if things go on long enough they will completely disappear, and Santa's realm with them."

"Yes," Arthur replied. "We're aware of his most recent…" he grimaced, "Acquisitions. However," he continued. "We're not certain how it affects the balance of power in the magical world, and I've been concerned about what could happen if Santa's ride does not take place."

The queen shook her head. "That I do not know. It is still unknown to us whether the magic would simply re-disperse or whether it would combine with the closest strong source."

"The wizard."

The queen nodded. "But you are right to be worried. We cannot afford to have Santa's powers fall into the wrong hands. Arthur," her hand reached out and firmly gripped hold of Arthur's right elbow. Her eyes stared icily into his. "Take care when dealing with cold. A case of frost bite would be regrettable. It would be a shame for the rest of the magical world to have to make an amputation."

Arthur jerked his arm away and growled back. "I assure you, that will not be necessary."

As quickly as the icy glare came on it melted away, leaving a grin in its wake. "Good. Now, on with the festivities, Surely you will stay and help us celebrate."

"Unfortunately, my lady, if things are as bad as we fear then we must be on our way."

"Of course, of course. But you must stay to refresh yourselves before moving on. At least let the child rest for a while. He must be so cold," she said gazing down at Alfred, with a soft, sweet, sickening smile. "And so hungry."

"That's quite all right," Arthur said sharply, pulling Alfred closer into his side. "I have enough resources of my own to keep us comfortable until we get to our destination."

The queen looked back up at Arthur. "Very well," she said, walking back up the stairs to sit on the throne. She clapped her hands once and the room was filled with music and the rustling of material, the fairies standing up and continuing their dance, twirling about once more like flakes in a snowstorm.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

Man, for some reason this chapter has given me more trouble today than most of the others have. Not as much as chapter four thankfully. At times that was like pulling teeth.


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